The King's Men
by Warrior of Ice
Summary: Being resurrected is difficult. Sometimes you can't put the pieces back together again. AU, Shitennou, senshi, U/M in modern day Tokyo. Written for Ficathon 2013.


**Title**: The King's Men

**Description**: Being resurrected is difficult. Sometimes you can't put the pieces back together again.

**A/N**: 1 of 2 fics written for Ficathon 2013. AU, modern day Tokyo. Not in the same universe but explores similar themes to _Two Truths and a Lie_.

**Themes**: Literary quotes; Redemption

* * *

_Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall._

_Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. _

_All the king's horses and all the king's men_

_Couldn't put Humpty together again._

* * *

_The King's Men_

* * *

_Jadeite_

Time passed strangely for him these days. Everything and everyone seemed to be rushing onwards except for him, a stubborn rock stuck in the center of a fast-moving river, slowly, inexorably eroding beneath the pressure of the water. Water, he knew, could be deceptively powerful, in exactly the way Mercury's diminutive appearance belied her strength.

But the day the last illusory, spidersilk thread of control fell from his fingertips remained stark in his memory.

* * *

"A job? _Zoisite_?" His voice was as harsh as a crow's caw, and he raised the cup to his lips more to help him swallow his disbelief than moisten his throat.

"Yes, he finally found a job he doesn't need to get out of bed for."

Normally, he would have been pleased that she had deigned to answer him. Today, though, he felt as if someone had plunged a shard of ice into his chest. One that was nearly the size of a runaway jet plane.

Even though her words were coated with derision, Rei was starting to get to know Zoisite. To understand him, even. Nearly a year had passed since the Shitennou's return to Tokyo, yet his own understanding of Rei resembled an ungifted student's attempt at copying his master's work – poorly done and bearing little resemblance to the reality.

"Some more tea, Jadeite?" Makoto appeared at his side offering a sympathetic smile and the ceramic teapot.

He stared at the design of alternating pink petals and green leaves against the white background, wishing he could cram the chaos of his life into such neat patterns. As he moved to hold his mug out to her, he realized that he had been clutching it with whitened knuckles.

"It's like a game to him. You know how fascinated he is by electronics," Usagi began to explain enthusiastically. While computers were foremost in his regard, Zoisite had developed a fondness for arcade games that had morphed into a legendary rivalry with Usagi. Even Mamoru had been somewhat alarmed by how cheerfully cutthroat they became upon setting foot in the Crown Arcade.

"And how nosy he is, and how he has no respect for people's privacy?" Rei cut in.

"Well, that too," Usagi admitted. "Anyway, so can you imagine, these companies actually pay him to try to hack into their own systems to find the weak areas? And they call this being part of their security division!"

The three young women looked up in surprise when his mug suddenly clinked onto the table. He tried to smile apologetically at Makoto, but he feared that the muscles of his face, like his insides, had frozen. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Thank you for the tea, Makoto." And the free lunch. Again.

He stumbled out the door, not waiting for their belated farewells. He couldn't explain to them that he did not begrudge Zoisite his newfound success. It was just that he was increasingly afraid for himself. He was all on his own now: the last of the Shitennou, the only one without a job, without any purpose in his life to propel him forward.

For all his faults, Zoisite had adapted wonderfully to the twenty first century. He practically had a second life or several on the internet, he was perpetually fascinated by new experiences, and his up-to-the-minute following of pop culture rivaled that of Minako and Usagi's. Jadeite could barely remember what day of the week it was, let alone what the Prime Minister of Japan looked like.

* * *

He kept strange, semi-nocturnal hours motivated by insomnia and a desire to cut down his food intake to two meals a day. If he woke up as close to noon as possible, that meant he could have a combined breakfast and lunch when Mamoru had already left for the hospital, was sleeping for eleven hours straight, or was out seeing Usagi. That left dinner as the only other meal, the second great trial of the day when every mouthful was a painful reminder that he subsisted entirely on other people's generosity. The same oppressive, omnipresent guilt made him scrape his plate clean every time, even when it was something he hated.

Everyone was scrupulously kind to him, and Mamoru always went out of his way to assure the Shitennou that what was his, was theirs. Still, he felt constantly degraded, like the youma who used to queue up outside of Beryl's throne room. They waited in line for hours before it was their turn to enter, kneel before her, and suck the one precious, life-sustaining dram of energy she let fall from her red-tipped fingers. Energy that he and his fellow Shitennou had harvested from humans on Earth.

He spent a lot of time simply walking the streets of Tokyo. He never walked _to_ anywhere in particular, but he couldn't just sit in Mamoru's apartment all day. After a few hours, the tiny, glassed-in apartment started to take on an uncanny resemblance to the crystal coffin the Dark Queen had crafted for him.

On his daily promenades, Jadeite adhered to a few cardinal rules. One, the destinations had to be within walking distance, since using public transit would be an additional expense. Two, any neighborhoods that bordered on the senshi and other Shitennou's homes or places of work were to be avoided whenever possible. Except when he had to obey the weekly summons to Makoto's bakery, as he suspected that she would tell Mamoru if he didn't turn up.

Jadeite's most frequent haunts were public places, usually outdoor spaces, which were reliably teeming with tourists. At those places, people didn't recognize him as an outsider. They didn't go about their normal, everyday routines – going to and from work, taking care of children and parents, buying groceries and running other errands. They weren't wondering why a stranger was wandering aimlessly in a place he didn't belong.

The Shitennou's reappearance in Tokyo had been sudden, mysterious, and unexpected. They were given the unenviable tasks of justifying their existence to Mamoru, Usagi, and the senshi and of learning how to adjust to modern life. Integrating into society and laying the foundation for a peaceful coexistence had so far evaded Jadeite. Not so for his fellow Shitennou, it seemed.

Within a year, each of them had moved on and out of Mamoru's very crowded apartment to places of their own. Nephrite had been the first to go, then Kunzite, and finally Zoisite. With each departure, Jadeite's despair mounted. He used to be the advance guard, the one with the far-seeing eyes, the adaptable one who could charm anyone and everyone.

In the Silver Millennium, he had almost always been the first on the scene. His duty was to blend in, using his considerable observational and linguistic skills, to get the lay of the land before reporting back to Endymion. Often, he lay the invaluable groundwork before a larger force moved in, informed by his observations. Even Beryl had recognized that this was his special talent. He had been the first general to engage the senshi, teasing out their weaknesses and paving the way for the others.

Now he was like a kite cut loose from its string, bobbing aimlessly in a featureless sky and expecting to be dashed to the ground by treacherous winds at any minute. Each day he got up, swearing that this would be the day. Today he would take up the shattered threads of his life again and try to weave them into meaning. Until the day he stopped trying, no longer able to face the cruel disappointment that today would not be the day he recovered his self-worth.

* * *

_Nephrite_

The two men sat on a white stone wall guarding an avenue lined with cherry blossom trees. Neither of them fully appreciated the beauty of the trees, however. The thick profusion of flowers, which drew thousands of people to participate in _hanami_, inevitably reminded Jadeite of Rei. For Nephrite, they brought on a headache, blocked sinuses, and watering eyes. At night, hanging lanterns would provide a softer light, but for now, the noontime sunlight was fiercely bright.

"You'll find a job," Nephrite told his friend confidently.

Jadeite nodded diffidently. He kept his gaze trained on the snowy blossoms being whisked back and forth by a capricious wind. They were delicate things, easily bruised by rain, and frost, and careless fingers.

This lukewarm response chafed at Nephrite. It was exceedingly difficult to get ahold of Jadeite these days. He had finally run him to ground by chance, and now he couldn't even get two words out of him.

"The Hikawa Shrine will be putting out a notice for part-time work soon. Rei asked me to tell you about it. She also said, if you were interested, that she would not be disturbed by your working there."

"That's very gracious of her," Jadeite observed in the same dispassionate tone one might use to discuss the weather, how many eggs a recipe required, or when the next train was expected to arrive. "The next time you see her, please relay my thanks."

Nephrite stood up abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Tell her yourself. She's being kind to you, you idiot."

"I know," Jadeite said levelly, "I'm returning the kindness by doing her the favor of staying away."

"You have no idea what a gift is being handed to you. Don't throw it away!" He was angry, and guilty, and guilty because he was angry.

Jadeite's inability to move on was threatening to him. The Shitennou were not close as they had once been. They did not live together, nor did they confide in each other, but they were still bound by past horrors and a continued shared purpose – protecting Mamoru. Either they all rehabilitated themselves and started fresh, or none of them did. And if even one of they could not do it, it meant that something was wrong. It meant they were irrevocably broken.

Jadeite, too, was angry. "How can you even suggest that I go back there? After I lied and schemed and tricked my way into that place, and committed horrors on its grounds? I brought evil to that place, I desecrated her home for the second time, and I will not do it a third time!"

"You're not the same person who did that, Jadeite."

"Aren't I? I remember everything I did. Every single thing."

He fell silent, and Nephrite was still searching for the right words when Jadeite added softly, "I will not take anything else from her."

Their eyes met, and with a sigh and a nod, Nephrite sat back down again. After a moment, Jadeite followed suit, brushing the cherry blossoms off his shoulders and plucking a stray one from his sleeve.

"Jadeite, I'm leaving." Nephrite's voice was the gentlest it had been during their time together.

He tried not to show surprise, but the hand that rested on the rough stone of the wall tightened briefly, reassuring him of its presence and stability. In this life, he who had once worn so many masks, gone through innumerable changes in appearance, accent, and residence in quick succession, did not like change. "Where are you going?"

"My company is relocating me to Nagoya."

"Is it far away?"

"Yes, Jadeite." He was impatient again, and frustrated. "It's southwest of here. The third largest city in Japan."

"Kunzite won't be pleased," Jadeite remarked.

Nephrite rolled his eyes and refrained from saying what he thought Kunzite should do. "We've come to an arrangement. I'll come back every other weekend for full shifts, and I can teleport back if there's an emergency. It's not that different from when he has to travel out of the city for work." Kunzite had refused to take on any international travel, claiming that he had aerophobia, but that excuse didn't get him out of traveling within Japan if it was within driving distance.

"Does Makoto know you're leaving?"

"She knows," he said flatly. "Look, Jadeite, Makoto and I are friends. That's it, nothing more. I think we all need to do our best to put the past behind us and move on. We have all these ridiculous expectations about each other, and it's really not helping anyone at this point."

Jadeite studied him for a few minutes before he said carefully, "I am not trying to pursue a relationship with Rei, Nephrite."

"No, you're doing the exact opposite, which is just as stupid if you ask me," he returned belligerently.

"I didn't," Jadeite replied a shade too politely.

They didn't exchange many more words before parting ways.

* * *

Three months later, Nephrite called, talking first to Mamoru and making him laugh with some ridiculous work anecdotes, before Mamoru passed the phone to Jadeite and left the room.

They made small talk while Jadeite stared out of the kitchen window and deflected questions about how his job search was going. After a few fruitless attempts, Nephrite finally gave up and instead regaled him with the usual complaints about his coworkers and tales of sightseeing in Nagoya.

The third time he mentioned someone named Yuna, Jadeite's interest was piqued. "Is Yuna a colleague of yours?"

"No, she teaches in junior high. We met through mutual friends and started seeing each other a few weeks ago."

"Ah. Congratulations."

Nephrite made some brief acknowledgment of this well-wishing, then changed the subject. They chatted for a few more minutes before Jadeite said, "Tell me something, Nephrite. The move was the right decision? Are you happy?"

"Very," he answered. It was the lie he told himself nearly every hour of every day.

They hung up shortly afterwards, the hearty goodbyes completely at odds with the disquiet roiling in their hearts.

* * *

_Zoisite_

Jadeite took a seat at the counter, setting his full plate next to Zoisite's half-empty beer bottle.

"Jadeite, have you met Misaki yet?" Zoisite asked, leaning back slightly so he wasn't obscuring the petite woman sitting to his right. "She went to medical school with Mamoru."

He shook his head. "Nice to meet you."

She smiled politely. "Likewise." She glanced back towards Zoisite, and her smile grew warmer.

Jadeite resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Women were always interested in Zoisite, but they always overestimated how long his interest in them would last.

"We were just talking about the crazy things Zoisite has discovered about how terribly easy it is to get access to people's online accounts these days. What line of work are you in?"

"I'm not currently employed." Jadiete strove for a casual tone, but the words stuck in his throat, no matter how many times he said them. So did the half-embarrassed, half-pitying look on her face. "Excuse me, I'm going to get a drink." He took the long way to the drinks table, and it didn't look like he was going to return anytime soon.

"Poor devil," Zoisite remarked in an undertone to Makoto, who had come over a moment too late and was now looking after Jadeite in concern. But he was really thinking about himself. As usual, Ami might say.

Whenever he went to one of these little get-togethers, Zoisite brought along a different woman. He prided himself on not having a type. Women with black hair were the most common, but he also dated redheads, blondes, and brunettes. Tall, short, thin, curvy – it didn't matter to him. But if they had blue eyes, he never had sex with the lights on. He also made them leave his apartment, or left theirs, directly afterwards. Neither party really liked it when, invariably, he woke up three hours later screaming from the nightmares.

Every morning, the first thing he did when he woke up was curse Ryo Urawa. Then he reached for his laptop. Then another four hours passed before he opened the blinds and let some sunlight into his cave.

Rei walked over to him, holding her first and what he suspected would be her only glass of wine for the evening. "You're glaring at Ryo again," she remarked caustically as Misaki struck up a conversation with Makoto.

He shrugged, glancing away from her wineglass. The light scintillated off the dark red liquid in a way that unsettled him.

Usagi and Mamoru converged on them, sharing a private smile before turning their attention to Zoisite.

"Ryo is a really nice guy," Usagi said earnestly, even as she slid a slice of pink-frosted cake onto the counter.

Zoisite rolled his eyes. Sugar was Usagi's cure-all. But he still stuck his fork into the center of the soft white cake.

"He's good for her," Mamoru added, glancing at him with undisguised worry.

"Yes, yes, we all know the virtues of Saint Ryo," Zoisite replied impatiently. "You should know by now that you won't change my mind. Can't you just let me hate him in peace? I don't see how it matters. It's not like I'm going to do anything to him."

He only thought about it every once in a while. No more than twice a month, really. He held back a flinch as Rei lifted the burgundy wine to her lips. The color called to him even as it repulsed him. His memories of two lifetimes where living by the sword was essential were sometimes difficult to repress.

"But you always make fun of him when Ami's in the room," Usagi pointed out.

"It's what I do, Usagi. I make fun of you all the time, don't I?" he asked, sending her an endearing smile.

She shook her head, sending her golden streamers of hair flying. "It's not the same, Zoisite."

From across the room, Ami's soft laugh rang out, and his gut clenched as he watched her smile up at Ryo. Any day now, Saint Ryo would go out and buy the most traditional, most boring, and most appropriate ring he could find and get down on bended knee, and that would be the end. And all he could do was sit by and watch it happen.

Zoisite pushed his plate away and fixed his acid gaze on Mamoru. "If you need a project, why don't you try to fix Jadeite and leave me alone?" he asked silkily.

* * *

_Mamoru_

Usagi sat in bed, rereading one of her favorite mangas from high school while the pink nail polish on her toenails dried. Usually Mamoru would have been sitting next to her, reading his favorite medical journal, but tonight he stood by the window watching the clouds drift across the face of the moon.

"What's wrong, Mamo-chan?"

"I'm worried about Jadeite."

Usagi put down the manga. "He needs more time."

"The others didn't need more time," he pointed out.

"Everyone hurts differently. Everyone heals differently," she insisted.

Mamoru frowned. "If this is healing, I'd hate to see what hurting looks like. Why is he like this, Usagi? Some days I look at him, and I don't even know him. Who is he, and what did he do with the brilliant, wonderful man I knew, my brother, my Shitennou?"

She got out of bed and walked over to him, her blue eyes wide with surprise. "Mamo-chan, you're asking the wrong question. You shouldn't look at who he is now and try to understand him. You look at who he was in the Silver Millennium, where it all started."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We all suffered great trials in this life, and we had to get over them. Think of yourself – who were you when we first met? You were an orphan, no stranger to tragedy or the pain people can inflict on each other." She rested her cheek against his shoulder as his arms came around her, her warmth and love chasing away painful memories of the orphanage and foster homes where he had spent the first half of his life.

"Your parents died in a car accident; Makoto lost her parents in a plane crash. Rei watched her mother waste away, and she watched her father not care that it happened. Ami's father might not remember that he has a daughter in the world. We were all, in our own ways, a little more prepared for what was to come in this life."

"You too, Usagi?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps I was less prepared than the others, but I still had growing up to do. At least I had that final buffer, that space to let me mature."

Mamoru paused, and she let him have time to think. "You said I should think about who Jadeite was in the Silver Millennium.

"Jadeite didn't have a happy childhood. He never talked about it, but the stablemaster let him sleep in the stalls with the horses so he didn't have to go home when his father was drunk. Which was usually every night. He was a stable boy; he never dreamed he would become a Shitennou, but when he did… When he was chosen, his conviction in what he served was peerless." He turned from the window, regret piercing his heart as he thought of his earliest memories of his friend.

"Yes, it would be. And how did he see himself?" she prompted gently.

"He was my Shitennou. One of the Four Kings, bound to his brothers by more than blood, honored above all. A warrior. A philosopher. An idealist. An honorable man."

"For him to have gone against that purpose so deeply, to have betrayed you, he betrayed his truest self."

* * *

_Jadeite_

In time, Mamoru and Usagi got married and moved to a small house they had been saving up for located outside the city center. Nephrite came back from Nagoya for the wedding, bringing Yuna with him. He made sure to have an engaging conversation with everyone who attended the ceremony, even Makoto, but when he left they realized no one really knew what was happening in his life these days. All of his words had been empty. At the wedding, Ami caught the bride's bouquet, and Zoisite clocked Ryo on the rain-drenched balcony.

Jadeite stayed in Mamoru's old apartment after Mamoru and Usagi moved to their new home. He still didn't have a job, and he was tired to the bone when he got out of bed every day. Sometimes he marveled at the nonsensical nature of his life – how could he be tired from doing nothing? But he was so very, very tired.

Even though he didn't eat much, his once-lean body was running to pudginess in certain places. He thought of the superb physical condition he had been in during the Silver Millennium and even under Beryl's control, and some days he didn't know what was worse, being consumed by Beryl or being consumed by himself.

The flavor of his failure had become like a poisoned dish he kept returning to. Each time, he knew it was inimical to him, but he had developed an inexplicable taste for it that had him sampling it over and over again. Some days he thought he might be tempted to turn to alcohol or something stronger. But he already needed so many things in this life. He didn't want to be enslaved to any new masters.

At first, his inaction was almost liked a very warped talisman. A way of warding off trouble. If he wasn't ready for it, trouble wouldn't come. Not that that had ever worked, of course, but in some deep, fractured part of his mind it made sense.

He was unable to fend for himself, entirely supported by his brothers' generosity. Anonymous generosity they were unable to deliver in person. But that was all right, because even if they had been able to bring themselves to come see him, he couldn't have faced them. Couldn't have borne to look in their faces and see his smallness reflected in their pitying eyes.

In some ways, he did adjust. Gradually, his memories of Negaverse became like those of a hairy tarantula a little boy kept in a box, tilting the lid a hair from time to time to experience the horror anew.

But he couldn't lay his memories of the fall of the Silver Millennium to rest. He couldn't come face to face with Rei or even look at a photograph of her without smelling the scorched copper scent of her blood, seeing the crimson splashes as it geysered over his hands and fell gummily in his hair, and remembering the impact of his double swords cutting into her body, jolting unpleasantly as they hit bone.

As he walked the streets, glancing at the ubiquitous advertisements, he wondered at all the things people seemed to need in their lives these days. As far as he could tell, no one needed him. Not Mamoru, not the other Shitennou, not even the earth, which had found new protectors, and most of all, not Rei.

* * *

_Kunzite_

He stood at the base of the Starlight Tower, watching one of his Shitennou sink to his knees in front of a youma and waiting for it to finish him. Kunzite's eyes were fixed unwaveringly on the scene, even as the others turned to each other with anguished gazes. Even the torment on Mamoru's face could not hold his attention. All of them were there; Nephrite had even teleported from Nagoya in time. In time for what?

As the heavy cape rippled behind him in the wind, Kunzite wondered how many times fate would let him fail the same men over and over again before it all ended.

"Enough," he breathed, but he didn't know who he was speaking to. He didn't know if anyone was listening.

"Someone bring down that youma! Mars?" Venus snapped, motioning for the other senshi to bring forth her flaming bow. She turned to Kunzite, in disbelief at his inaction, but he only stood in place, still watching Jadeite.

"You can kill the youma, but it is not the true enemy."

"What are you talking about? Mars, hurry up!" She turned her back on him.

He continued speaking, but no one was listening to him. "I don't know what to do. This is not an enemy I can fight. This is not an enemy I can strategize against. There is no enemy, only my brother, and he is falling into a place we cannot reach him, where he cannot return from."

* * *

Kunzite teleported to the top of the Starlight Tower just as Mars's fire arrow plunged into the youma, turning it into a black scorch mark on the glittering tiles.

"Jadeite. Get up."

"No, damn you! It doesn't matter," the other man panted, his eyes bright and feverish in his wasted face. "There will always be another one. It'll get me next time."

"Jadeite, I need you."

"Don't lie to me. I know what you all think of me – I know what _I_ think of me – no one could possibly need me now."

Kunzite knelt beside him. He unclasped his heavy cape from the golden epaulettes and draped it around him. "But I do need you, Jadeite."

Jadeite's azure blue eyes burned in his white face, but he kept their gazes locked. "Why?"

"Otherwise I will have failed you three times in three lifetimes."

He tilted his head, which was still crowned with unruly golden curls. "So if I let the youma get me next time–"

"Then I will fling myself off the Starlight Tower with all the elemental power I command until the core of the Elysion itself consumes me, because I will not be fit to lead the Shitennou."

Jadeite whispered something, too softly for him to hear.

"What did you say?"

"Wasn't your fault," he repeated, the tears starting to coalesce at the corners of his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault either, Jadeite." Kunzite paused, then added, "By the way, you're showing up to training tomorrow. And if you don't take out the next youma we run into in under a minute, I'll court-martial you."

Slowly, Jadeite got to his feet, and he managed a half-smile. "It's a deal – as long as you stay away from the edges of tall buildings."

Kunzite nodded, his eyes glowing white as he used his power to seal their agreement. The next minute, Nephrite and Zoisite had teleported to join them, yelling and shouting and reaching out for them. Finally, they stood side by side, all the king's men together at last.

_Fin_


End file.
